Panic Sets In

When I developed a love for theatre early in high school, I had this notion that I was going to grow up to be an actress. I boldly told my parents that I would be looking at theatre programs in colleges. My parents, who rarely limited me ever, boldly said, "no you're not." They politely used the phrase "starving artist", and encouraged me to look into English. Being an obedient child, I accepted their decision, and attended a small private college where I was a big fish in a small pond, but learned quickly that acting was not my strong suit.

My passion for theatre, however, did not die with my actress goals. Instead, I learned what my strong suits were when it came to theatre: teaching, especially children, stage managing, directing, managing in general, crisis management. When it was time to graduate college, I found a very unique graduate program nestled in the Shenandoah Valley in Virginia that combined scholarship, which I am good at, and theatre, which I love. I thought, "ha! This is the way to stick it to my parents," and I applied. I am currently four months from graduation and the real world, with goals that will certainly lead me to what my parents fear most: a starving artist.

A year ago, I would have been fine. I would have had plenty of theatre jobs to choose from. Luckily, my strong suits in theatre make me an excellent candidate: I love making schedules, working under crisis, know how to research and write, can multitask like it's nobody's business, am not afraid of hammers and nails, can direct and/or stage manage, am highly motivated in the area of education, and am all around intelligent and easy to work with. I'm a bargain.

And then the economy went down the shitter, as they say. And now everyone is sizing down. And no one is hiring, especially not in the arts. So there goes my great plan to show my parents that I'm not just a starving artist. I will graduate in May, and, after having earned a B.A. in English, summa cum laude, and both a Master of Letters AND a Master of Fine Arts in Shakespeare in Performance, I will move home and work at McDonalds.

So today, as I sat in my Careers class learning how to properly behave in an interview should I be so lucky as to find myself in one, I began to panic. My chest closed in a little as I realized that I have nowhere to go. No inkling of guidance. Nothing. All I know is that I don't want to stay here, I don't want to go home, and I want to pay back my student loans. Oh, and if it's not too picky, I'd like to work in theatre and with kids.

So if you are reading this, I thank you. I'm merely looking for an outlet for my anxiety and fears before they build up and suffocate me. I don't do well when I have nothing. Give me twenty options, or thirty parameters and limiters, and I'll make it work. Give me nothing, and I sink. Now, where did I put those floaties.....